I Had To Make a Sanctuary Map

Week 8

You know the moments that unseat you? They can be heavy or un-expectedly “light.” Those light ones, though, are sneaky. They touch the still-sore splinter. How do you feel it but then also chart a course back to yourself?

Mytho-poetry

We are in Maine in my husband’s childhood home. As my firstborn and I wrestle and laugh on the carpeted bedroom floor, she stares me down. Almost 12. Lion eyes. Seer-girl.

“What aren’t you strong?” she asks.

“What do you mean? I am!” I counter.

“Not really. Why don’t you run like Dad, why do you only walk, why can’t you lift the canoe by yourself like you say you used to?” These aren’t new questions, but she is older and more shrewd. I drop down inside myself and explain in casual tones that sometimes it takes a while for a woman to get strong again after bearing children. C’mon, mom, please.

“I wish I had known you before you had children,” says my own child.

“Yeah, that would have been cool,” I shrug.

She is wanting from me the same thing I want from myself. It’s hard to hear her disappointment and it’s hard to hide the truth from her. My pelvic floor status over the last decade is the only secret I’ve kept from my children. They can talk with a degree of comfort (or at least willingness to be uncomfortable) about sex, race, gender, body parts, shadowy emotions, technology, but they don’t know that part of my history. It’s too complex. There are too many pitfalls. Eula would ask me if it happened with her birth and when I said yes she would likely blame herself or fold it into her story of self and so I’m protecting her. Or it would become a possibility inside of them for their own bodies. Right timing. Age appropriate. I hope.

In reckoning moments like these, I feel overwhelmed, desperate, and simultaneously urgent and ready to give up the whole effort of rebuilding my physical body (which, by the way, is incredibly capable and strong even so).

So, I made a Safety Map.

Body art (digital) of an illness made with my daughter who was ill, Leftover splinter in my palm from pencil wielded by a boy name Ramsey in 6th grade, the start of my simple but powerful Sanctuary/Safety Map

Physical Stats

Not much this week. Walking on the roads in Maine. Less walking.

Nervous System

• When one of my children is supremely sick, I tend to lose track of myself. My good intentions: wash my face, eat my breakfast, exercise anyway. But those devolve as sleep evaporates, as my focus goes taking her temperature every few hours at night, as my eyes track her breathing, as I hold her close in the most awkward positions in a twin bed, as I sit in the out-of-town Urgent Care trying to get an answer, all focus narrows, this, this, this, nothing else but this. Biological. Animal mother. Even when I’m on ‘vacation’ and surrounded by other adults who can help: grandparents, uncles, aunts, husband. When she emerges, I emerge… and discover that my responsibilities to others and myself have wobbled. Straight talk: Part of me loves any singular focus. It’s a welcome relief and maybe even its own distraction. Re-entering can feel like a heavy lift.

• Titration is key. My only way through anything, especially regaining strength is noticing the micro-micro 2% changes.

• Is it too much to try to do the walk on Sept 21st? I could do it, but will I do it well? Does my bod and pelvic bowl need a longer run-way? There is some balance between giving adequate time and catching the momentum.

Prayer

I know what I GET to do. I am asking for support from the ethers to help me make it all happen so that be in my calling and support others to do theirs. I was born an inspired person. I could find beauty and awe and synchronicity in almost anything. This year, I’m on fire—being woken up in the middle of the night by lucid dreams that go on and on and give me all the information I need for the next step. Last week, at some hour after midnight, I had to actively close the portal and ask the download to stop. Must sleep. These occurrences have always been familiar but they are accelerating and common now. I know I’m not alone. I know many, if not all of you, are feeling similar waves. Let’s travel them together.

Do you have Sanctuary/Safety Maps for those moments?

Big or small.

The idea here is that you can identify a pathway.

LOVE in the heat of mid August,